


That's My Daughter

by RunWithWolves



Series: 25 Days of Sweetheart [2]
Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 19:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12394848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunWithWolves/pseuds/RunWithWolves
Summary: It's been a long road from the first time Carmilla and Laura met as antagonistic roommates to their wedding but they've finally made it. With kisses, cupcakes, and wedding dresses the wedding is picture perfect. Papa Hollis is determined to keep it that way as he steps up to make his speech; if only he can stop crying every time his daughter smiles at her bride.After all, he did promise Laura that he'd hold in the waterworks.





	That's My Daughter

**Author's Note:**

> long time readers will know that i like to use these writing binges to practice new things so i thought i'd try writing a hollstein story from the view of someone else entirely with basically no hollstein speaking part. Plus, i'd never tried to write papa hollis before.

That was his daughter. His girl.

Sherman cleared his throat, promising himself that he wouldn’t cry again. He’d caved during the ceremony when he’d walked Laura into the church, holding tight to his arm in her white dress, and he had started crying the moment he’d looked over at her face.

He’d caught the moment she’d first seen Carmilla. Her face had been bright, smile cracking over her face as sunshine seemed to leak from her entire soul. An aborted laugh of pure emotion leaking from her throat that only he could hear.

As though no-one but the two of them were in the room.

He’d tried to hold the tears back. He’d promised her that he wouldn’t cry. He’d promised but then he looked at Carmilla. Carmilla in her own white dress with a hand over her mouth and watery eyes that still couldn’t hide her own smile.

And the waterworks had started. 

They were happy and a little sad as Laura gave him a fierce hug at the end of the aisle, the same tiny arms that had clung to his neck every night holding him tight. After all, the love of a father runs deep.

“I’ll be okay, Dad.” She’d promised, “You can let go.”.

The way she looked at Carmilla. The way Carmilla looked at her. 

“I know.” he’d said.

It had been so easy and so hard to let go of that hug. He squeezed a little tighter and stepped back, “I’m so happy for you kiddo.”

He hadn’t been able to stop the tears. Laura had quickly followed suit.

Hollises. Always emotional. Felt everything fiercely his own mother had always said.

But as he stood from his seat at the small reception, Sherman was determined to hold back the tears. Pulling out his cue cards and fishing his glasses from his pocket, he rested his hands on the podium to ground himself. 

His was the only speech of it’s kind and for a moment, his eyes saw phantom ghosts of the family that Carmilla didn’t have. 

Then, he took a deep breath and started. 

“That’s,” he said, pointing to the couple, “That’s my daughter right there. My girl right there on her wedding day looking all glowing. So much more than this old brain could ever imagine the first time someone put her in my arms. All weak and helpless but still trying to kick and fight, squirming everywhere until I was afraid I’d drop her. Had to see the world even back then. Stubborn. That hasn’t changed.”

He paused for the laughter, smiling at the way Carmilla gave Laura a teasing smile.

His words were proud, “That’s my daughter. Attracts trouble like a magnet and even in that first moment I knew I was done for. Minutes old and she already had me in love with her. In love with this tiny squirming, screaming fragile thing in my arms.

And I was terrified. Terrified! What does a carpenter know about raising a little girl? Fix a stairwell, sure. I’m your guy. Even a pipe or some basic electrical work. But a little girl?” He shrugged, “No idea.” 

“But that was my daughter and by jove I was going to look after her. Even if that meant accidentally exploding the first bottle I tried to microwave and not knowing whether to lay her on her back or her stomach and being terrified I was going to kill her. Not to mention the screaming.” He sighed and rubbed his face, “She just wouldn’t stop screaming. 2am nights with a crying baby girl when my heart is breaking and even while my body was screaming for sleep, all my brain wanted to do was find a way to help her. 

That’s my daughter, I just wanted to keep her safe.”

He smiled at Laura, “Even if I may have gone a little overboard on occasion.”

She smiled back, hand linked with Carmilla’s. 

“It didn’t get easier as she got older.” He said, “Walking was terrifying. She got into anything she could get her hands on and there didn’t seem to be anywhere I could hide the chocolate that she wouldn’t get to. Finding her ready to leap from the countertop to the top of the fridge probably took five years off my lifespan. The first set of stitches from trying to climb on the roof took another five. Finding out she’d decided, in gradeschool, to systematically investigate and then take down corrupt faculty was the first in many sleepless nights lost.

But I’d have given them all up if I had to. After all, she’s my daughter. I love her.”

“But,” He leaned forward on the podium, “that all had nothing - nothing - on when I found out what was happening at Silas. The University that I was paying an extraordinary amount of money to was basically a war zone and actively trying to murder my little girl.

And then,” he added, “and then I find out she’s dating a bloodthirsty vampire? A vampire! Well, I had to get there immediately. Ran into a giant or two. Got chased by some villagers with pitchforks. I was in way way over my head but I went anyway. Because that’s my daughter and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. The same little girl that I read fairy tales too and tucked into her bed every night. I was going to keep my daughter safe.

There was this nonsense with gods and swords and prophecies and I’m pretty sure someone died but everyone’s being cagey about that and I’ve decided that I don’t want to know.”

He ignored the way Laura winced and Carmilla held her just a little bit tighter. 

He really really didn’t want to know.

“What mattered was I found out that my daughter was in love with a vampire. Carmilla. Who, when I found the two of them absolutely filthy and emerging from a literal hell pit, apparently wasn’t even a vampire any more. So my daughter was just in love with a 300 year old human.”

He shrugged, “Honestly, at that point, it didn’t even phase me. I just scooped the two of them up and took them home. Far away from gods and wars and school and plopped them somewhere safe. 

That’s all I wanted, to keep them safe. After all, that’s my daughter. All I’ve ever wanted is to keep my daughter safe. I love her. Now,” he folded up his cue cards and slipped them into his jacket pocket.

He didn’t need them. 

He just needed to look over and Laura and Carmilla. Hands clasped, Laura leaning back against Carmilla’s shoulder. 

“Now,” he repeated, “why am I telling you all of this? Because I wanted to remind everyone that everything, for as long as I’ve had her, has been solely dedicated to keeping my daughter safe.” He held up a hand to stop Laura’s usual protest, “And while my daughter is perfectly capable of taking care of her herself, even if I may have gone a little overboard, it never hurts to have a second set of eyes. And that’s what I’ve been. 

And I want you to remember how important it is too keep each other safe.

Because it’s your turn.”

He swallowed hard but shoved the tears down. He was not going to cry. He was not.

“Carmilla,” her eyes snapped to his, a hint of fear that he hoped was gone by the time he finished. “I was there when Laura was born. I saw her very first breath and the first time she smiled, that little squirming bundle in my arms, I knew instantly how deep love could truly be. 

I was there when she first took her steps, tiny hands clasped onto my fingertips as she scrunched her nose and literally decided it was time to walk now and just took off across the room. Stumbling all the way until I caught her before she could smack her head off the coffee table.

I was there when she had nightmares. For when I’d be woken up by the sound of a hurricane sprinting down the hallway so the monsters wouldn’t eat her only for the sound to stop right outside my door. The hinges creaking quietly as she padded into the and carefully, trying so hard to be quiet, crawled in beside me. 

She didn’t want to wake me up.

I got to roll over and pull her close and kiss the tears from her cheeks until she giggled in my grasp and fell asleep against my chest. When she fell asleep on the couch, I got to pick her up and bring her back to bed. To tuck her in every night with a kiss to her forehead.

I was there when the car rolled, when it burst into flame and all I wanted was for my little girl to crawl out of the car and just be safe. I was there when she refused, bawling her little eyes out and rolling down all the car windows to let the smoke out but refusing to leave me. Those terrified eyes are seared into my brain. 

I was there when she got her first story in the school newspaper and carried it around with her for four months until newspaper literally fell apart because she’d show it to everyone, grinning with no front teeth. I was there for the braces. I was there when she graduated and I thought my heart would pop as she got her diploma. I was there for the first girl on my doorstep. The first heartbreak. The things a Dad can’t fix so I bought a lot of ice cream and waited outside her door until she fell apart in my arms. 

I was there when she packed up to go to Silas and I had to let her go. My little girl was all grown up.”

His throat choked up at the memory but he swallowed it down. No tears. He had to finish this.

“Carmilla, that’s my daughter holding your hand and I want you to look after her because I love her and I know, I know, you do too.” His voice went deep, “Carmilla, that’s my daughter holding your hand.”

Carmilla was nodding, her grip tight on Laura’s hand, and Laura’s eyes were glassy.

But he wasn’t done yet.

“And that’s just the old stuff. The memories that seem like a distant dream compared to everything we’ve seen in the past few years. Because, and I know the focus wasn’t on an old man like me, I was at Silas too.

And I saw things there. Terrible things.” He closed his eyes against them. “But,” he opened his eyes, “I also saw other things.

I was there when I found Laura huddled in a corner of the library, silent tears leaking from her eyes as she held what I can only assume is Carmilla’s leather jacket tight in her arms. I sat beside her as she cried, arm over her shoulder until she fell asleep. 

I was there to get up, trying to find the bathroom in that infernal stack of books, when I came across Carmilla sleeping in a pile of cushions with dried tears on her cheeks. It was drafty in that living nightmare and I was there to put a blanket on her shoulders.”

Carmilla’s eyes went wide.

“Although,” he added, “it was a bit of a surprise when she morphed into a giant black cat right in front of me. Still wearing the blanket. I’m getting old. Those lost years of my life are going to catch up to me eventually and that one was definitely a small heart attack.” He smiled and continued, “Though, as the kids say, hashtag worth it.”

Definitely worth it to see Laura bury her smile in her hands at the bad joke.

“I was there when they stumbled from that pit, a place that I couldn’t go, but I was there with an army at my back and caught them in my arms when the adrenaline faded. I was there to hold Carmilla up as she wobbled on shaky legs to the helicopter. Legs that I suspect were freshly human and didn’t remember how to carry on. I was there to keep her from bashing her head in when she tripped over Laura’s clumsy feet and nearly headbutted the steel side of the helicopter.”

The next words were quieter.

“I was there when screams would echo through my tiny house at 2 in the morning, ripping me from bed to run down the hall. I perched outside the door and listened just long enough to make sure that everything was okay and they had each other through the nightmares. I was there to make pancakes the next morning.” He smiled at the group like he was giving them a secret, “Chocolate chip for Laura but Carmilla likes blueberries and fresh cream.”

He couldn’t look at Carmilla and Laura, he could feel the tears in his throat and he wouldn’t be able to finish if he looked at them.

“I was there,” he said, “When Carmilla got the flu for the first time and while Laura has many skills, chicken soup isn’t one of them. So I was there to make soup and buy medicine and to force thermometers into stubborn ex-vampire mouths and to spike every drink with vitamin c because that never hurts. I was there to drop blankets onto shivering girls when Carmilla’s fever got so high that she wasn’t recognizing Laura. To brush sweaty hair from her face and make sure every vomit bucket was thoroughly bleached and returned.

I was there to drive Carmilla to get her first driver’s license and to watch her glare at the camera for the angriest ID photo I’ve seen. I was looking through the rearview mirror to see her smile at the card when she thought Laura wasn’t looking.” He smiled, “I was also there to try and teach her to drive so I was there the first time she hit a tree with my car. 

I was there, car-less, to help set up a new apartment at a new university and to let them go even after what had happened the last time I sent a daughter off to university.

I was there when a scared looking 300 year old girl showed up on my doorstep with shaking hands to ask to marry my daughter. And of course, I couldn’t break her heart. I didn’t need to.

I was there for it all.”

He paused, gathering himself against the emotion in his chest and finally looked over at Carmilla and Laura. Both with wet eyes, Carmilla’s wide and Laura’s already stained with tears. 

He thought of the ghosts around them.

He thought of everything he’d been there for. 

And his eyes watered. 

“Carmilla, that’s my daughter holding your hand. Love her. Look after her.”

He smiled. 

“But, Laura. My little girl.” Her eyes met his, just a hint of confusion in them. He couldn’t stop smiling, the feelings leaking across face, “I have to say something to you too.”

She nodded. 

“Laura, I want you to look after that girl holding your hand. Love her. Look after. Because, Laura,” even as he said her name, his gaze shifted to Carmilla, “Laura, that’s my daughter holding your hand and I want you to look after her because I love her and I know you do too.”

There was a pause.

A breath.

An audible sob. 

He had an armful of Carmilla Hollis-Karnstein holding tight to his neck and crying into his shoulder. Laura slammed into him, only a few steps behind her. 

Sherman Hollis finally let himself cry as she held onto his two beautiful girls.

**Author's Note:**

> i gave myself the feels with this one. i hope that's from more than the late hour.
> 
> Seeing how excited you are for this series has done wonders for my trepidation in taking on this endevour. So thank you cupcakes, as I try to squeeze in writing time your kudos, comments, and [ tumblr flails ](http://ariabauer.tumblr.com/) make all the difference.
> 
> This is story 2 of 25 Days of Sweetheart in which I'll be writing a Carmilla story every day for 25 straight weekdays. Stay stupendous. Aria


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